


Department of Child Disservices

by Speedsters



Category: Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Tommy, Tommy-centric, sporadic at best updates, this is just an excuse for me to cross-post lazily written origins, to be rewritten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 08:39:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5121932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speedsters/pseuds/Speedsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything had started to slow down around him, hour by hour, second by second.</p><p>School had become more and more unbearable as he exceeded expectations by all margins, then got bored when he realized that there was nothing left to do. He was told to <i>sit quietly while the other students finished</i>. For a while, he could.</p><p>All at once, he didn’t have the patience anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["I quite honestly want to see a dark Tommy Shepherd. [...]"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/153263) by gaysupersoldiers. 



> cw for later chapters include; child abuse, experimentation, depersonalization, dissassociation, canon-typical violence. warnings may be added sporadically but i'm honestly not the best at them so consider this your warning that this may or may not get hella gritty.
> 
> crossposted on tumblr @ sanicgofast under the tag docd.
> 
> first chapter is largely a rewrite of tommy's pre-intro in ya. actual writing happens next chapter.

“Thomas Shepherd. Sixteen years old. Springfield, New Jersey.” 

Vision pointed at the spot on the map, not quite local. Eli stepped closer. “What’s his specialty?” 

“According to the Avengers fail-safe program, he’s a speedster.” 

“What’s he gonna do? _Outrun_ the super-skrull?” Billy scoffed. “Who’s next on the list?” 

“Thomas can also use his speed to accelerate and destabilize atomic matter.” 

“What does that even _mean_?” 

Kate cut in. “It means he can blow stuff up.” 

That got Billy’s attention. “Let’s go get him. Where is he?” 

“A juvenile detention center.” Eli choked, likely on his own tongue. 

“Vision, what are you _thinking_ even suggesting that?” 

Kate rolled her eyes. “Eli, relax, it’s just _juvie_.” 

“'Just juvie’?” His voice rose an octave. 

“You wanted someone powerful.” 

“I _wanted_ a young avenger. Not a young master of evil.” 

“Why is Thomas here?” 

“He accidentally vaporized his school.” 

“Accidentally?” 

“According to his attorneys.” The Vision’s appearance rippled and took on that of a uniformed officer. “With a holographic form, I would be able to retrieve him without difficulty.” His form rippled back to normal, and he gestured for them to follow him. He didn't seem to see the issues. 

“Vision, wait...” The android paused and looked at Billy. “I have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Finally, some sense.” Eli elbowed his way out of Kate’s grasp and crossed his arms. “Let’s find someone without a rap sheet instead of adding onto our own breaking him out.”

The others were quiet for a moment, Cassie shifting uncomfortably, and then Billy nodded in agreement. “Who’s next?”  



	2. Chapter 2

Everything had started to slow down around him, hour by hour, second by second.

School had become more and more unbearable as he exceeded expectations by all margins, then got bored when he realized that there was nothing left to do. He was told to _sit quietly while the other students finished_. For a while, he could.

All at once, he didn’t have the patience anymore. He got up and left more than once, and it was no surprise when he and his parents were dragged into the principal’s office, with the school counselor. Tommy remembered the discomfort and _worry_  about having them in the same room with each other, and not much else. The testing that came after that had supposedly been discussed and agreed upon with him present.

They said the tests were to diagnose for ADHD. Extensive observation (invasive), checking in constantly with whichever parent had him that week (day weekend month), blood tests (needles), questionnaires (repeditive), interviews (obnoxious). He’s been able to stay still for the CT scan, but he’d ruined all attempts at the MRI and had run when they’d suggested drugging him for it.

In the free time that was left, he found it easier to book it from the cops and actually get away. He picked up a job as a runner, and the chunk of time that he’d normally be sleeping wasn’t missed as much as he’d expected. He was caught twice, but he’d never had drugs on him, so he hadn’t been charged. It was the first time in years that he hadn’t ended up spending the week or month in Juvie after a night in lock-up.

Amidst the disaster that had once been his personal time, and despite all of his problems and his rapidly declining grades, he was still expected to attend school. He’d fidget, nap, fact check the teacher, ignore the teacher, pace the back of the room, and skip, but nothing convinced people that something was officially wrong.

Everything came to a head in gym class. They were doing laps. Inside, because the teacher didn’t feel like standing in the rain. Tommy finished his laps. Everyone else said he didn’t, he barely even moved. Too tired to argue, he’d done them again. He liked running. More than he'd used to, even when he'd run track the year before. (He'd wanted to join this year, it burned off nervous energy, but he preferred his new substitute away from prying eyes.)

Something was wrong, and everybody was staring.  _What? Why isn't everyone finishing their laps?_

There was an argument. One classmate started out with _freak_ insults. Another tried to defend him, but he’d shoved them aside the second the word _mutant_  passed their lips. Loud voices getting louder, drawing out and warping into sounds he suddenly couldn't quite understand.

He remembered scared faces, looking frozen in time, and a lot of heat, and then nothing.

Mary had been scared of him after that. Frank had disowned him. He spent the night in prison, still not understanding what happened or what he did. Later, it was explained and everything had felt numb. House arrest and court proceedings became his new norm. He paid the attorney from under his mattress, and his mother hadn’t questioned where the money came from.

Legal counsel had assured him that there was no way he’d be sent to another detention center. This was serious, and the best he would get was a secured juvenile facility. Kid prison instead of kid boot camp. They’d suggested pleading temporary insanity and angling for a psychiatric ward. He’d told them to go fuck themselves. He’d been to Juvie before, he could handle Super Juvie just fine.

They hadn’t pushed him.

He’d just been getting used to the slowness of everything around him when the court proceedings had finished, and the judge hadn’t taken kindly to his endless fidgeting and moving and, twice, impromptu napping. It had been concluded that he was a danger to the public and wasn’t taking the situation seriously enough.

The first night he’d spent in his new cell, he’d begun to question why he’d been so adamant on his own sanity, but he hadn’t regretted it. 

First test, no regret.  
Second test, no regret.  
Third test, doubt.  
First experiment.

Tommy couldn’t process the flow of time well with his powers dampened, and when he was in the Room, there was no basis to work off of to figure out where he’d started. It had gotten to the point where the teen wasn’t even sure what month it was anymore, and everything he’d known Before was developing a strange, fuzzy quality to it.

A film of rage coloured his perception of everything for a while, and then, instead of allowing them to strip it away, he’d buried it. The alternative was tranqs and other drugs that softened his perception of time even more.

Anger was all he had left.

One day, a scientist off-handedly wished him a _happy birthday_. They snickered and laughed with each other, but the speedster latched onto that useless bit of information. Suddenly, he knew what month it was. He knew that he had a year left before they either had to destroy his paperwork, let him go, or fake giving him a job as the weapon that they were so intent on convincing him that he was.

A year was an eternity.

Thomas Shepherd had never taken an authority figure seriously in his life, but he’d learn to fake it to survive. The year would pass.

Thomas Shepherd was going to become the best damn weapon they’d ever seen, and then he was going to kill them all.


End file.
